


you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be

by theweightofmywords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Weddings, cynical!neville
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville reflects on his wedding day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns these characters. Title taken from Kate Nash's song "Merry Happy."

Neville examined his appearance in the mirror once more. His robes were free of wrinkles, his hair was neatly combed, and his usually dirt-caked fingernails were exceptionally clean.

It was his wedding day.

"Are you nervous, mate?" Seamus asked. He stood in the doorway holding a flask. He gestured for Neville to take a drink. 

Neville paused. Was he nervous? How did one determine if they were feeling truly nervous, when nervous was their natural state of being? His clumsy forgetfulness, together with his mild personality, created situations where Neville always felt nervous. What did he forget this time? What did he muck up today? Who's going to laugh at him now?

Not that Neville cared much. He had learned long ago that simply feeling nervous meant nothing. His nerves never stopped him from doing what he had to do. People believed in him now the way they hadn't believed in him before. The first time the Prophet referred to him as a "war hero," Neville had burst out laughing, partly because it sounded silly and partly because of his indignation.

_"What do you think of me, now?"_ he had wanted to scream, as a cynicism he had never known before threatened to swallow him whole. The summer after the war, he had thrown himself into growing jungles of venomous plants with jagged edges, regardless if they were useful. He had been useful during the war, and though he felt proud of his actions, he almost missed being the joke that everyone had once thought he was.

Luna had visited him on the anniversary of the Battle, holding jars of flowers. Even as he planted them with tears in his eyes, she simply smiled.

"I think they'll grow beautifully under your care," she had said. She always believed in improbable things, like flowers flourishing alongside invasive vines that sapped the life out of all around it. She had believed in Neville from the start, and Neville clung to that truth as he clawed his way out of his bitterness.

Turning back to Seamus, Neville shook his head.

"Not at all," he smiled. They stepped outside, where the sky was a clear blue and the air smelled of dirt and flowers.

_“I’m the dirt. She’s the flowers,”_ he thought, and as Luna walked towards him, her hair covered in blooms, and a silver star and moon painted on her face, Neville laughed.

“We will grow so beautifully,” he whispered to her.

“You can grow flowers anywhere,” she replied, sliding her hands into his.


End file.
